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God, the things I would love to do with her breasts. I could see Red on her knees, looking up at me, my cock sliding between those oily pillows. Fuck. And I’d pump hard between them, making them jiggle and bounce around my cock.

My whole body hummed with the vision.

She was so beautiful in front of me, yet so wickedly sexy. The type of sexy that Eve must’ve possessed right before she told Adam to defy God and eat the apple. How could Eve be denied? How could I deny Red?

“Really?” Red giggled. “Are you just going to stand over there fixing your face into weird expressions?”

“I’m thinking over here.”

“About me?”

“Hell yes. Now that I finally have you here, I’m not sure if it’s a good idea to taste you.”

She slipped her hands up to her nipples and pinched them. A soft, feminine moan fled her lips.

If I thought I’d been drawn to her, now I knew, I’d been taken,

kidnapped,

caged,

destroyed,

and all the other things that went with someone having complete power over another.

Just one slide.

All I needed was just one long slide of my cock against her flesh and I’d be a wreck. I could see it in my future. She’d already had me obsessed with her murals, then trapped to her looks, and caught by her fascinating mind.

There would be no out for me this time.

The wolf was no longer the predator. He was now a docile house dog, wagging his tail and hoping his master would hurry home.

I’m pussy whipped and I haven’t even had a sample yet.

She would make me crazy. I would slide my dick against her body, anywhere, just hungry for the simple touch of her skin. And I knew before touching her that just her skin alone would drive me so insane that I’d explode white, hot, and wet all over her chest as she gazed up at me with an open mouth.

A dark growl left my sneering lips.

I hurried her way like a mad man, my pants falling to my ankles. I had to stop and jump out of them one leg at a time, and then continue my pace.

She held her hand out in front of her. “Wait.”

“No,” I groaned and then cleared my throat. “I mean. Okay. I can wait.”

I raised my hands and backed away, unable to trust myself any closer to her. In the end, if she didn’t want to have sex I’d have to hold my bruised balls and drag myself away from her. Thankfully, I had tons of corners in my penthouse to crouch into and cry in the shadows.

“What’s wrong?” I kept my hands up.

“Put your hands down and come over here.” She giggled. “I’m not a cop.”

“Trust me. You want me over here with my hands up.”

She laughed.

I didn’t. My cock was ready to burst through my boxer briefs. Every part of me ran numb. Blood pulsed hot through my veins and mingled with a serious adrenaline rush that probably heightened due to the excellent joint that I’d rolled.

“For some reason right now, having my hands up is keeping me focused.”

“We should talk about something, if we are going to have sex.”

My words came out in a weak whine. “If we are?”

She covered her mouth, but couldn’t keep in the laughter. “You’re hilarious.”

I cringed. “That’s me, Wolf the funny guy. What do we need to talk about?”

“If we have sex, then you’re
not
going to be my mentor,” she said. “I don’t do business and pleasure.”

“No.” I put my hands down and prowled toward her. “I want
you
and
your art
. I need both. And you deserve the best chances to get your visions out there. I can give you resources in the street art game that no one else can.”

She covered her breasts with her arms. “But—”

A dark growl lodged in my throat. It worked hard to keep my madness at bay. “What?”

“I don’t mix business with pleasure,” she said again. “If we have sex, then that’s it. It’s sex. We don’t paint together.”

Why do women always have to be so goddamn complicated? Is this what real women do, talk about stuff before sex?

Clenching my jaw I ran my fingers through my hair. “Red—”

“I just don’t want to be Wolf’s sex thing, and only known because of that.”

I sighed. “You won’t be.”

“People will see it that way.”

My voice rose a little higher than I wanted. “No one knows who I am.”

“I know.”

“No one would know that we had sex.”

“I would.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” I argued.

“Pick one, mentoring me or sex, but you can’t have both.”

I can’t have both? I don’t like this.

I rubbed my face with both hands. A whine escaped my lips. I should’ve been embarrassed when she giggled in front of me, but I wasn’t.

Decisions. Decisions.

With only my boxer briefs covering a very hard dick, I paced in front of her. “Let’s make love now, and then discuss this further tomorrow.”

“Make love? This is sex.”

“It’s more, Red.”

“No, it’s not. I just met you.”

“I didn’t. I’ve been watching you for weeks.”

“That’s not really turning me on right now.”

“It should.”

“It doesn’t.”

“You know that most women would be happy to have sex with me and receive my mentoring.”

“I think most of your women have not had the bad experience of defecating where they consume food.”

“So you don’t shit where you eat. Great.” I ceased with pacing, licked my lips, and gazed at her. “Do you have any idea how bad I want you? How many nights I’ve thought about you? How many days I imagined us doing what we did tonight, painting together? No, I’m not in love with you, but I’m fascinated. And couldn’t fascination breed love? Couldn’t obsession trigger something more?”

She opened her mouth and then a few seconds later, she laughed. “I think we’re both too high for this conversation.”

“Maybe we are.” I charged for her. “So let’s stop talking about it.”

She shrieked, but didn’t run.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to do this?” I took her into my arms, those soft breasts pressed against my chest, and I came undone, right there, my cock begging to get out of my pants. Blood roared hot like fire through my veins.

“Take off those boxer briefs,” she whispered in between kisses. “I want to see how sharp the wolf’s teeth are.”

I gazed down at her and smirked. “You take them off.”

She did so, inch by inch, but before she would pull them off, she made me get a condom. Luckily I had one in my wallet or I would have scoured the goddamn penthouse screaming at everyone to get me a box of them. As soon as I showed her the condom, she took her sweet time undressing me.

It drove me even madder. I almost screamed for her to tear the damn things off.

My cock exposed to her gaze, she stood up and licked those lips.

“Promise me something.” I pulled her to me and lifted her up.

“What?” Shocked, she wrapped her legs around my waist.

Still holding on to her, I tore away the condom wrapper, threw it on the floor, and handed it to her. “Promise me that you won’t limit this.”

“This? The sex?”

“No, this, meaning us. Promise me that you won’t limit us.”

“Okay,” she whispered. Again, she took her time, even with putting on the condom. When her fingertips touched my length, I moaned so loud, it rose in the gallery’s space and echoed against the walls. She rolled the latex down over my cock and I locked my jaw in an effort to not scream.

My words came out shaky. “Are you always this slow?”

“Only when I want to torture someone.” Finishing, she wrapped her arms around my shoulders, tightening her legs around my waist, and kissed me, sliding her tongue in and out and making me insane.

At that point, I couldn’t wait anymore. I entered her with a long groan that vibrated in my chest.

Oh god, I knew she would feel this good.

It was heaven sliding in. She dripped all over me, and moaned just like it felt as good to her as it did for me. And like her, I took my time, moving slowly in and out. I grabbed Red by that lush ass and held on for dear life, as desire shifted to boiling passion that bubbled under my skin and yearned to be released.

We did this for several glorious moments within the shadows of my dimly lit gallery, surrounded by the mural we’d made together.

It was perfect moment.

An exquisite masterpiece.

Red’s hair lay over her shoulders and swayed as she rocked into me, meeting my rhythm. Those green eyes sparkled as she opened her mouth and came with a loud, “Oh! Wolf!”

I might’ve damaged a tooth, when she screamed out my name. Surely, I’d clenched down hard enough as her moan dragged my own orgasm out of me. I’d been trying to hold it all in, make the moment last longer, all night if I could.

I needed this time with her. After we had sex, only God knew what would become of us. Yet, when I came right after her, loud and shaking, growling like a goddamn animal and quaking in uncaged pleasure,

she held me close,

slumped into my chest,

and whispered, “Let’s smoke, and then do that again.”

Shocked, I blurted out, “Will you marry me?”

She laughed.

“It’s not funny.” I forced a frown and pulled out of her. “I’m halfway serious. I’ve never dated a smoker. Is this really what they do, smoke and have sex?”

“Yes, dear wolf.”

A little bit of jealousy hit me. Who had she smoked with back in the day? Who’s memories lingered in her head now? Had I given Red her own memory? And would we be more?

More? Do I really want more? Fuck.

“What’s wrong?” She climbed off of me.

“Nothing.”

“You look annoyed.”

“I think that you might have slipped me a mickey or something.”

“No way, buddy.” She wagged her finger. “This is your house. You’re the one that’s been serving drinks and ganja.”

“I feel drugged right now.”

“You’re high.”

“I feel higher after having sex with you,” I admitted.

She grinned. “Then maybe that’s a good thing.”

“Maybe we need to explore that.”

“Maybe we do.”

It was a perfect 420.

I had my staff bring down several mattresses from my guest bedrooms, sheets, candles, wine, a variety of imported cheeses, and crusty homemade French bread.

We stayed in my gallery the rest of the night, smoking, painting, and making love until all of our limbs were sore. We talked a lot too—about our favorite artists, our top colors, and the various ways that inspire our works.

My driver took her friends home, only after a long lecture from one of them. I must admit that Coco was a bit scary and looked close to punching me in my face when I’d explained how I got her phone.

As the hours continued with just her and me, the conversation became deeper. She learned things about me that others never knew. Smoking my bong, we discussed the harder things—dreams we had that didn’t come true, moments when we’d been so heartbroken that we’d almost given up, if not for a friend or bit of luck, and even brought up our fears.

I held her naked body to me and combed my fingers through her red strands. “What scares you the most?”

“Being homeless with no way to get out of it. When I look at people sleeping on the street and babbling to themselves, it freaks me out. You know they didn’t choose that life. Something happened to them. Something made them go so crazy that they stopped living like the rest of society. Not all of them, but some. . .they just got so abused and used that they lost it all.”

“You would never be homeless.” I targeted her with my gaze. “Trust me on that. You will never have to worry about that. You’re going to be a success, and although I would like to say it would be due to my help, it will all be due to you. You’ll be the hero for yourself. Your murals stand in a class of their own.”

“Thank you.”

“It’s true.”

“What are you most scared of?” she asked, and I wished she hadn’t. I didn’t like admitting it.

“I’m scared of dying alone.”

She formed her lips into a smile “Now it’s your turn to trust me. You’ll never die alone. Well. . .you can’t be a douchebag either. Douchebags die alone.”

“Noted.”

“But seriously, Wolf.” She kissed my lips. “As long as we’re friends, you’ll never die alone.”

I want to be more than friends.

By the time dawn came, I had my staff make us breakfast. We crept up to my rooftop and greeted the sun half-naked and marked with paint, our fingers sore from holding down the spray tabs.

We welcomed the morning in the middle of our city. Off in the distance, thousands of graffiti artists must’ve been dragging themselves back home off from painting their own masterpieces.